History of Richard II

Henry IV. Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear
2880Is that the rebels have consumed with fire
Our town of Cicester in Gloucestershire;
But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not.
[Enter NORTHUMBERLAND]Welcome, my lord. what is the news?
2885

Earl of Northumberland. First, to thy sacred state wish I all happiness.
The next news is, I have to London sent
The heads of Oxford, Salisbury, Blunt, and Kent:
The manner of their taking may appear
At large discoursed in this paper here.
2890

Henry IV. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains;
And to thy worth will add right worthy gains.

[Enter LORD FITZWATER]

Lord Fitzwater. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London
The heads of Brocas and Sir Bennet Seely,
2895Two of the dangerous consorted traitors
That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow.

Henry IV. Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot;
Right noble is thy merit, well I wot.

[Enter HENRY PERCY, and the BISHOP OF CARLISLE]

Hotspur (Henry Percy). The grand conspirator, Abbot of Westminster,
With clog of conscience and sour melancholy
Hath yielded up his body to the grave;
But here is Carlisle living, to abide
Thy kingly doom and sentence of his pride.
2905

Henry IV. Carlisle, this is your doom:
Choose out some secret place, some reverend room,
More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life;
So as thou livest in peace, die free from strife:
For though mine enemy thou hast ever been,
2910High sparks of honour in thee have I seen.

[Enter EXTON, with persons bearing a coffin]

Sir Pierce of Exton. Great king, within this coffin I present
Thy buried fear: herein all breathless lies
The mightiest of thy greatest enemies,
2915Richard of Bordeaux, by me hither brought.

Henry IV. Exton, I thank thee not; for thou hast wrought
A deed of slander with thy fatal hand
Upon my head and all this famous land.

Henry IV. They love not poison that do poison need,
Nor do I thee: though I did wish him dead,
I hate the murderer, love him murdered.
The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,
But neither my good word nor princely favour:
2925With Cain go wander through shades of night,
And never show thy head by day nor light.
Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe,
That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow:
Come, mourn with me for that I do lament,
2930And put on sullen black incontinent:
I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land,
To wash this blood off from my guilty hand:
March sadly after; grace my mournings here;
In weeping after this untimely bier.
2935